*Charismatic Shoemaker Lloyd * Benton hammer tapped a nail into a wood, steady as a heartbeat. The quarter door swung open, and Benton’s rhythm faltered. An old man loomed in the doorway, his tailored grey suit a stark contrast to the quarter's dirt. His cold eyes pinned Benton like a bug under glass. “Mr Tyson, I was about to head out with the sketch,” Benton said nervously. “You fool. Put that hammer down,” Tyson commanded, his voice dripping with disdain. “Harris will be taking the shoes to the company.” The words took a second to register in Benton’s head. Then the hammer slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. “No. That’s not right,” Benton said, heart racing. “I worked on those shoes for months. You promised I’d—” Tyson let out a dry, sharp laugh. “Promised?” He stepped closer. “You really thought this was your moment?” Benton looked at his old ironed suits by the chair before trailing behind him with anxiety unable to tell what has changed. “Don’

*Charismatic shoemaker Lloyd*“Worthless fool!” Tyson spat, pushing him hard. “You will never be more than a failure, give up already and accept the divorce while we’re being nice!”“I need to hear it from Avery.” Benton dismissed and drove his Sedan to the Tysons family mansion.She pushed open the door to his room as exhaustion clung onto him like a second skin. Thoughts of the attack from his in-laws were aggravating.Benton's consciousness began slipping away and his gaze lingered on the shoe. Something was happening on it, something he couldn't explain. A strange almost indiscernible hum filled the air and the pair of shoes seemed to be filled with energy then everything went blank.In an hour he jolted awake, heart pounding from a strange, vivid dream. He grabbed the mysterious shoe, stuffed it into his bag, and bolted out of his room. The elite man from yesterday was supposed to meet him at the shop. Why that vision? Benton muttered, his mind racing as he tried to piece it toge

*Charismatic shoemaker Lloyd *Old Charles scurried after Benton, his weathered face alight with relief as he caught up in the dimly lit garage. “Young master, you’re finally back! I’m over the moon! Those scheming cousins of yours were ready to toss your mother out on the street and carve up the business like vultures. The news of your return will definitely hit tomorrow's first headline !” Benton froze, his breath catching sharply in the cold air. Silence hung heavy, his mind racing with several thoughts as Old Charles’s words sank in. The old man had been Lady Lisa’s loyal servant, sharing every ounce of her anxiety over the family’s crumbling empire. “I don’t care about any of this,” Benton snapped, his voice flat but edged with defiance. “I’ve got my own life. Your petty fortune means nothing to me.” he threw the black card in front of Old Charles. Old Charles threw his head back, letting out a harsh, throaty laugh that echoed off the concrete walls of the garage. “Petty fortu

*Charismatic shoemaker Lloyd* Margaret fumed with anger inside the chilly snow, she could not stand that she was thrown outside the six star hotel. To think after their big accomplishment yesterday she’d been humiliated like this burned down her throat. The security were passive looking at her with blunt expression, despite her holding her membership card, she hit her foot on the ground disgustingly. Her nails dug into her palm as she pulled out her phone and dialed Harris.. “I won’t take this! That lowlife is sitting inside while I’m standing outside!” She rant out over the phone to her son. “What! I didn’t hear you well.” Harris refuses to understand who her mother is referring to. “That bastard, Benton is inside the VIP restaurant right now, being treated like some VIP while I was thrown out.” “What!” Everyone in the background exclaimed. “How is that possible?” Avery cut in, “mother you know you’re very good at mocking Benton and speaking in parables afterwards.”